


Of Tyrannosaurs and Tasers

by Zephrbabe



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Dresden Files - All Media Types, The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hanging Out, Slice of Life, darcy and jane shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 03:21:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10982289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephrbabe/pseuds/Zephrbabe
Summary: Harry, Jane, and Darcy are sitting in a bar, comparing weird life stories.





	Of Tyrannosaurs and Tasers

Darcy was trying to clear a sip of Mac's finest brew from her lungs while Dresden sat there, the smug jerk, grinning. The other patrons of Chicago's only wizard-friendly bar studiously ignored the two members of Team Rainbow Bridge and the only wizard listed in the Yellow Pages and now- thanks to Darcy- on Yelp. Jane, only resident astrophysicist specializing in interdimensional wormholes or whatever the Bifröst should be called in science-speak, was trying to thump Darcy's back, though it wasn't doing her much good.

“You gonna be OK there, Stranger Danger?” Dresden drawled, completely unrepentant. They'd been swapping my-life-is-weirder stories for the past two hours and he'd kind of just clinched the lead.

“You zombiefied a dinosaur?” Darcy managed hoarsely. She took a swig from her beer to soothe her throat, but had to add, “I mean, mad props. That is one hundred percent badass- my nephews would give their front teeth to ride a T-Rex- but why didn't she, like, try to eat you?”

“Uh, well, it doesn't really-” Harry started.

“Wait.” Jane had her finger all up in Dresden's grill, eyes glassy but focused on the wizard's scruffy face. She had her other hand braced on the figured wood table top so she could reach that high. “Did she have feathers?” 

Jane's interruption was a conversational derail that indicated that maybe Darcy should've stopped that blond hedge witch from buying them another round. But he was so pretty, in a totally human, not-planning-to-suck-your-soul-out-through-your-vag kind of way, and it had seemed a shame to turn down drinks from someone she might want to proposition later. The hedge witch, Darcy had nonchalantly noted, was seated behind one of the bar's thirteen carven posts, out of sight of the wizard, but in view of her.

Harry looked down at the tipsy physicist with a slightly raised brow. “I was a little busy fighting necromancers to notice, but-”

“No, no. I retract the question,” Jane said with a wave of her hand and a mouthed “necromancers” towards Darcy. “The currently accepted theory is that adult Tyrannosaurs-”

“-didn't have feathers,” she and Dresden finished together. Jane grinned at him and Darcy started to wish being around magic-users didn't blow out smartphones in, like, five minutes. Around Dresden, they died almost immediately. If Jane and Harry were gonna start on paleontology again, she was definitely going to need a distraction or another drink.

Sometimes, Darcy was sure someone up there was listening- or surveilling her- because right when her favorite scientist and new favorite PI were beginning to literally kill her with boredom (OK, not literally- she didn't ever want to run into that wannabe-supervillain again), she got her distraction. With an enthusiasm only a superhuman could muster, the door to Mac's was flung open, and who came thundering down the steps and into the bar proper but Thor. He was lit dramatically by the ancient multi-bulb fixture hanging above, and looked as wind-blown as you might expect from a recent trip on the Bifröst. His face lit up when he caught sight of them.

“Lady Jane!”

Jane broke off her incipient debate about the brontosaurus. “Thor!”

Darcy and Dresden watched, bemused, as Jane leaped out of her seat and into the open arms of her on-world-again-off-world-again boyfriend, or, as Darcy fondly referred to him, “Jane's magical space hunk.”

Thor was still in his Asgardian armor, complete with cape; Myuh-Myuh was nowhere to be seen, so Darcy presumed Thor had set it down in the parking lot, safe in the knowledge that no one could steal it. Did it have some kind of lo-jack if someone managed to? As far as Darcy knew, it just sat there, immovable, unless Thor picked it up.

Darcy's musing was interrupted as she was swept to her feet and into the friendly, crushing embrace.

Once Thor set her back on her feet, she chucked him on the arm and said, “What's up, thunder bro? How's it hanging?”

Thor's laugh at Darcy's incomprehensible Midgardian slang may well have just made the low ceiling fans shudder in their mountings. Darcy and Jane were used to that kind of thing by now. Dresden, on the other hand, was eyeing the guy as though waiting for the other shoe to drop. The patrons of the bar were openly staring (the vodouist two tables over had her mouth open), which was saying a lot. Thor knew how to make an entrance.

The wizard slowly, unthreateningly got to his feet. His jaw was relaxed, so Darcy was pretty sure they weren't going to be treated to another episode of “Chicago is My City: Dresden vs. Avenger.” Being on Accorded Neutral Territory (whatever that meant) probably also helped.

“Darce! Darce!” Jane was hissing into Darcy's ear, failing to muffle her giggles. “Harry is taller than Thor.”

Darcy craned her neck around Thor's armor-clad bicep- and what a muscly bicep it was- and craned her neck even further up to verify. It was true; Harry wasn't remotely as broad, or buff, but he was tall like a basketball player, and had inches on ol' thunder britches. Darcy cast Jane a delighted grin.

The elation of seeing Thor after several months must have added to Jane's buzz, because she seemed to be debating whether or not it'd be a good idea to jump him in front of all and sundry. “Sundry” including Harry, who was slightly curling and uncurling his fingers as though he wished he were clutching his staff. Whenever Darcy was stressed and without her taser, she got twitchy, so she understood the feeling.

She felt duty-bound, therefore, to make the introductions: “Thor, this is Harry “Yer a wizard, 'arry” Dresden. Harry, this is Jane's long, long distance love interest, Thor of Asgard.”

Harry politely, if warily, extended his hand for a shake. Thor, for his part, warmly clasped the wizard's hand from across the table and boomed, “Wizard Dresden, yes! I have heard much of your exploits.”

Harry said something that sounded a lot like “bluh,” and returned what had to be a vise-like grip, knowing Thor. Thor took the man's reaction in stride, and turned towards the bar's proprietor.

“Fattigmansson! Do you still brew that delightful ale?”

McAnally's lips turned up at the outermost corners as he set four bottles on the bar. Jane dragged Thor away from the table, while somehow also wrapping his arm around her shoulders, and accompanied by her adorable drunk-Jane yammer.

Darcy tossed her hair, settled back into her seat, and tipped back the last drops of her beer, politely ignoring Harry sort of vertically folding into his seat like a collapsing building. Meeting an Avenger in full regalia usually did that to people. When Harry glanced down at his hand, Darcy felt the need to say, “Yeah, dude. Thor's grip is a little... firm.” She waited a beat for a response. “Uh, Harry? Say something.”

“I just shook hands with Thor.”

“Um. Yes, you did.”

“Thor, the God of Thunder.”

“Yes?” Darcy eyed the subject of discussion chatting animatedly to Mac at the bar with Jane firmly under his arm. (Mac, Darcy had noticed, mostly communicated with grunts and eyebrow acrobatics, just like her dad.) “Technically, he's an alien.”

When Harry didn't have a quip about probes, beam-ups, or galaxies far, far away, Darcy turned to him with concern, but then she caught sight of him in the pub's dim lighting and concern turned to glee.

“Dude, your hair looks like you just stuck your finger in a socket.” She unsuccessfully stifled a snigger.

Dresden's gaze slid to her, but almost immediately flicked to the god? alien? currently attempting to juggle four bottles of Mac's best and one slightly wobbly astrophysicist.

“So... when you said your boss' boyfriend was Thor, and I said he must be from Norway or something, and you said 'or something,' you really meant Thor Thor.”

“Yep,” Darcy sat up proudly, and leaned towards Dresden, super tempted to pat down his fluffed-up hair. “I tased him once.”

Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden- godson of the Leanansidhe, member of the White Council, the only professional wizard in the Yellow Pages (and now Yelp)- stared at Darcy Lewis with his mouth agape, brows raised, and an expression between concussed shock and befuddled admiration on his long, scruffy face. His pithy rejoinder sounded a lot like, “You win.”

“What I wouldn't give for my phone camera to work in here for, like, two minutes. This would so totally go on Facebook.”

**Author's Note:**

> -Fattigmansson is (butchered) Norse for Poor Man's Son, which is what the surname McAnally means.  
> -In the Dresdenverse a magic-user gets a little zap-type-reaction when touching another magic-user for the first time, so imagine what Dresden feels when shaking hands with a literal-or-maybe-not god with electrical powers.  
> -Headcanon that Darcy tased a White Court vampire, and that's how she met Harry. ...I should probably write that. It sounds interesting.
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr!](http://zephrbabe.tumblr.com/)


End file.
